Playing against the rules
by Jikeda
Summary: Alternate Season 13 Finale. Michael keeps his word and leaves dean. The team have some down time, and Dean decides to spend it laying off work and having some fun. Fun which involves teaching Castiel some games, and Cas taking advantage of his 'lack of knowledge'. All rules were made to be broken.
1. Chapter 1

Warning: This story will be somewhat graphic.

* * *

Dean was shell-shocked, sitting at the massive map table in the bunker with his head in his hands. It couldn't be possible. No way. Nope.

But something reared it's head in his mind, whispering _Yes. Maybe. What if?_

"Is it... really?" He whispered, lifting his head to gaze at Cas, Sam, and Jack, all sitting at the table looking as shocked as he was.

"Did we win?" Jack asked in his blunt, confused way.

"I believe we may have..." Castiel answered hesitantly, flicking blue eyes to Dean. "Dean, is Michael-"

Dean was shaking his head as soon as Cas said his name, predicting the question and cutting his sentence off before he could finish.

"Gone. He actually kept his word. Said he wouldn't dishonour our deal, but he would be back."

"I don't get it." Sam interjected, running a hand through his hair as he did when stressed. "There's gotta be a catch. Why would he leave his strongest weapon - no offence Dean. Any ideas, Cas?"

Cas shook his head, looking down at the table silently.

The four lapsed into silence then, pondering the days events. Lucifer was dead, killed by Dean using Michael's power. As soon as he was gone, Michael had vacated Dean, surprising them all. Naturally, they had expected the tables to turn and screw everything, like it always did.

But they'd had no time to think on that - in the blink of an eye they were back at the bunker, transported through space to sit around the big table. They'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop - yet an hour later, it still hadn't come.

"Well, guess we should count our blessings and thank Cas that we're back here in one piece." Sam broke the silence.

"What?" Cas started, confused eyes turning on Sam. "No, that, that wasn't me at all."

Dean looked at him sharply, eyebrows coming together in confusion.

"Jack?" Sam asked quietly.

"No."

"Michael?" Sam looked wary now, waiting for the shoe. "But...why?"

"It... could have been him, I suppose. I don't have the answer, Sam, I apologise." Cas answered this time, linking his own hands together as he worried.

They lapsed back into silence.

"Oh, screw this!" Dean suddenly burst out, standing quickly and causing the chair to screech across the floor, startling everyone. "You know what? We got a win. We won a battle. We might lose the war, or we might win, but either way we aren't fighting today. Today it's over. So I say we take the win, we go out, we have fun, and pretend the world isn't ending every other damn day."

His speech was met with silence as Sam, Jack and Castiel stared at him, dumbfounded. He was shocked himself, the speech coming out from somewhere deep inside him that craved for just _one little break._

"I will follow you, Dean." Cas spoke first, blue eyes boring into Dean's green eyes with an intensity that was just so _Cas_

"Jeez Dean," Sam huffed with a laugh to break the intense atmosphere. "I think even Crowley would follow you after that speech. I'm in. Jack?"

"Yes, I think I would enjoy having some... Fun?" Jack answered with a slight question at the end.

"Fantastic!" Dean slapped the table with both hands, grinning from ear to ear. "We're goin out. Gear up, boys."

He left the room at top speed, heading for the bedrooms, obviously to get ready. The trio sat staring after him for awhile until the shock wore off.

"He's... Very excited, I believe." Cas commented eventually, confusion written all over his face.

Sam snorted with laughter, standing up. "Yep. You should know by now, Cas. He gets all excited, when we've won and it seems like it's all over - and then something comes and screws it up."

The grin fell off his face as he talked, leaving him staring at the other two with with a mixture of sadness and hope. Castiel, for his part, thought deeply about the comment. He decided quickly that he planned to do everything within his power to ensure that didn't happen, this time.

"Well. Perhaps we should take a piece of tree from his book and enjoy ourselves until then." Cas finally answered.

Sam laughed, throwing an arm over his shoulder in a short but affectionate man hug as the three walked toward their respective bedrooms.

"Leaf, Cas. It's a *leaf* from his book."

* * *

An hour later, all four of them were sitting at the local bar. Naturally, that was where Dean wanted to go. Sam had protested at first, arguing with his brother while the other two were still getting ready. He had figured Dean had just wanted to find a chick and get laid - but his brother assured him that was not the plan, and while he was doubtful, he went along with it.

They were sitting around a table now, nursing their drinks in relative quiet. Dean glanced across the table at Castiel, who was studying his whiskey and coke with intense interest. He'd shed his trench coat for the occasion, and was wearing a sleek, dark blue button up, sleeves carefully folded up to his elbows. The top two buttons were undone, and Dean grinned as he remembered teaching him that particular 'fashion'.

He still had that messy sex hair, of course, but Dean didn't mind. He made it look damn good. Dean had to wonder what that hair would look like after the angel actually did have sex, and he was aware of a distinct desire to see it.

 _'Dammit Dean, what the hell are you thinking,'_ Dean asked himself, quickly averting his eyes as his cheeks flushed with his impure thoughts.

It was nothing new, of course. He'd often had those thoughts flitting across his mind, thoughts that were definitely *not* pure when considering the Angel across from him. Thankfully the battles they'd faced had pushed it to the background. But now they were back with a vengeance, and he tried to convince himself it was just because he seriously needed to get laid. With someone not-Cas, he added to himself quickly.

He opened his mouth to suggest that they all go play a game of pool - but something else came out instead.

"Cas. Come play pool with me."

Castiel and Sam both looked up at him in confusion. Jack just kept staring into his drink, oblivious in the face of the bubbles in his beer that captured his interest. Sam's face quickly changed to a knowing smirk, however, that kinda pissed Dean off.

He glared back at his brother, warning him silently. As far as he knew, his brother didn't know about his infatuation with Castiel. It was all a big joke around that whole 'profound bond' line that Cas had given them. But then, Sam always had a tendency for knowing more than Dean liked him to.

"I would be happy to play a game, Dean. But I fear I would not be a good opponent. I don't understand the game, or the rules."

"That's cool man, I'll teach you. C'mon." Dean answered as he stood, motioning for Castiel to follow him.

"Uh- hey, Jack, why don't I teach you how to throw darts?" Sam suggested.

Jack agreed compliantly, standing and following Sam to a different area of the bar.

Dean led the angel to the pool tables and, after fiddling with the machine, racked up a new game. He set to explaining the basic rules of pool while he picked out the best looking cue from the wall, passing it to Cas. He showed him how to chalk the end and, god damn if the Angel didn't make it look somewhat sexual. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea.

"So," Cas was saying, snapping Dean out of his intense stare. "The aim is to hit that white ball, and try to get one of your own balls into a pocket."

"You'll be a pro in no time." Dean grinned and clapped him on the shoulder in a totally platonic manner.

"Who begins the game?"

"Well, usually we'd decide by tossing a coin-"

"That seems a very imprecise method, Dean."

"-but since it's your first time, you can break." Dean finished his sentence, ignoring the comment.

Castiel answered with a nod - Dean had explained what 'breaking the pack' meant - and walked towards the table, getting ready to take a shot. Dean realised very quickly how bad of an idea this was. Castiel had chosen to wear a pair of jeans that were a little too tight - exactly how tight became very obvious as Castiel bent over the table, then shifted to try to find a good way to hold the cue. Dean did nothing for a moment, staring at the outline of his ass in the denim.

"Uh, hang on a sec Cas," He said eventually, stopping the angel from taking what he realised was a very poorly lined up shot.

 _'This is a bad idea, a very bad idea..'_

He moved closer, carefully manoeuvring himself into a position where he could guide Cas' arms. As it turned out he ended up to Cas' left side, knees practically straddling the angel's leg so that he had the reach to lay his arms over the top of his. He felt a shock run through the other male's body as his hands layered over the top of Cas' and tried to ignore it, holding barely an inch between their bodies.

"Okay, so move this hand to make a spot to rest the cue on..."

Dean curled his fingers over the top of Cas' left hand, moving both his arm and hand to a better position. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise and gritted his teeth, trying to breathe evenly.

He glanced around quickly, noting that none of the other patrons were taking notice of their odd position. _Right. 2018. Liberal_. Not, of course, that there was anything but friendly instruction in what he was doing.

"Hold the cue nice and tight, but leave your wrist loose..."

Dean instructed, moving his attention to the way Cas held the pool stick in his right hand. He couldn't help noticing the way the veins on Cas' hand stood out when he tightened his grip. He drew their hands back until he knew Cas would get a decent amount of power in his shot, then gently let go of the other's hand.

"Now take the shot."

Cas hit the ball, the triangle scattering with a loud crack. As he did, however, he shifted his weight to his left hip, closing the distance between them and causing him to brush against Dean's crotch. One of the balls went into the corner pocket.

"Dean, I got one!" He exclaimed with excitement.

Dean, however, had moved over to check the corner so fast Cas could have sworn he was capable of flying. The man had a slight flush to his cheeks and as he glanced at the angel, he could have sworn there was a knowing glint to the angel's eyes. Cas appraised him with his eyes, enjoying the sight of Dean less-than-confident.

"Right, so, you have the balls with more white in them Cas."

Now there was a slight smirk joining that glint in Cas' eyes. The angel knew he didn't imagine the shakiness in Dean's voice, nor the way the man shifted to ease the discomfort of an obvious erection. He pretended not to notice it, of course. He had played the 'ignorant angel' for so long that he had learned to enjoy it, and it wasn't time for this game of theirs to end just yet.

Dean shifted, trying desperately to think of anything that wasn't Castiel. That simple brush had sent delicious shivers through his spine and given him an instant erection that he dare not let Castiel see. To that end, he stayed on the other side of the table, watching his friend try for another shot and miss entirely.

"Oh." Castiel said, disappointment clear on his features. "I suppose I need more instruction on correct handling of the cue."

Dean coughed, the flush spreading to his neck as he read a different implication in Cas' statement. It was all he could do to nod silently, trying to hide his erection as he moved toward Cas. He had no such luck, of course, though he pretended to imagine the way the angel's eyes flicked to his crotch before passing the cue over.

He tried to focus on the game instead of the way Cas looked at him as he lined his shot up, leaning over the table. His breath caught, however, as he felt Cas' weight settle over him in the same manner he had done previously.

"Cas?" He queried, trying to keep his voice from betraying his roiling emotions.

"Yes, Dean?" The low, breathy words were right beside his ear, sending a shiver through him.

"What're you doing?"

"I thought I may learn better from this... position."

 _Nope. Nope. Nope._

He was _definately_ imagining the suggestive hint in that last word.

"S-sure, man." Dean winced when his voice stuttered, and cleared his throat. "But Cas, uh... There's rules, dude."

"More rules?"

Was that laughter he heard in Castiel's voice? No, definately not, Dean decided, since Castiel surely had no idea what his proximity was doing to him. He was an _angel_ for chuck's sake.

"Yeah, I mean, a guideline, really..." And why in hell was he allowing for interpretation? "Just that, when you're playing, you don't touch... usually..."

Again with the room for interpretation. Dean was positive he was sober, but with how low his inhibitions were, he decided it was a great time to stop drinking anyway. Throughout the whole brief conversation, they had remained pressed together - yet Dean felt a surge of loss as Cas moved away, even if it was only an inch. Cas left just enough space between their upper bodies that they weren't touching anymore, but only just.

"Is this better?" Castiel's breath tickled across his ear.

Dean nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He was keenly aware of the minimal distance between their bodies, and apparently his erection was just as aware. His dick was rock hard, straining against his pants, and he knew there was no chance of hiding it at this point.

So instead he took a deep breath, and as he let it out slowly through his nose, he took the shot - and missed. His jaw dropped in stunned silence as the white sailed straight past the ball he'd aimed for and into the side pocket.

"You missed." Cas' comment sounded as shocked as Dean felt.

"You distracted me." Dean bit back, moving directly from stunned to grumpy.

"Oh? How did I distract you, Dean?" Cas asked him, the air of innocence.

"You-Well, you... Nevermind. Your turn." Dean snapped, handing him the cue a little more forcefully than intended.

As Dean stalked away to get another drink, Cas grinned to himself. This down time they had was going to be fun, he decided. And he didn't plan on letting Dean slip through his fingers this time.


	2. Chapter 2

Days later, Dean still struggled to forget the night at the bar with Cas. The angel had won three games in a row, mostly attributed to his merciless flirting with the hunter. Dean insisted in his mind that it was just the way Cas was, and he was reading way too much into it due to his desperate need to get laid.

Yeah, that was it.

Either way, that night when he was back at the bunker, despite his impressive collection of porn he found it hard to get off. At least, until he imagined the way Cas' ass looked in those jeans, the way his body had felt pressed against his - when he got to the way his breath had tickled over his ear he'd lost it, the orgasm slamming into him without warning. He'd had to clamp his own hand over his mouth to stifle the moans that spilled from his lips.

And of course, he convinced himself it was just a coincidence that he'd thought of Castiel in that moment.

Despite that, he'd spent so much effort distancing himself from the angel that even Sam had noticed, and taken it upon himself to have a heated discussion with his brother.

"The hell is wrong with you, Dean?" Sam hissed, cornering his brother in the kitchen one night.

"Nothin'" Dean bit back automatically, keeping his voice low so Castiel and Jack wouldn't overhear from the other room. "What're you on about Sam?"

"I'm on about this shit between you and Cas."

Dean's insides flooded with cold, eyes mirroring a deer in headlights. Good Chuck, Sam must have guessed his musings on Cas and was about to call him out on it-

"Dean!" Sam's hushed but angry voice snapped him back to reality. "Seriously, why are you so pissed at him?"

Oh. Sam hadn't guessed. He felt relieved - at least until he realised what Sam had said.

"Wait - you think I'm pissed at Cas?" Now he was just confused.

"Well, yeah!" Sam started to look unsure now, anger leaving him like a deflated balloon. "We all do. Well- I mean, aren't you?"

"No!" The word left him before he could even think of an explanation for his behaviour. "It's just.."

He trailed off, running two hands over his face as he leant back against the table. He had no idea what to say. Yeah, he knew he'd been acting like an asshole. He hadn't spoken two words to Castiel since they'd gotten back from the bar that night. He'd almost always made sure never to stay in the same room with him.

Now he realised that he'd made his state of mind way too obvious. Typical Dean, not thinking things through before he did them.

"Just what, Dean? Cause seriously, the guy's putting himself through the wringer to try and figure out what he did wrong. And what, it's just one of your bitch fits?"

"Something like that." Dean muttered through his hands. No way was he going to tell Sam what was really going on.

"Right." Sam was silent for a moment. "Okay, well you're gonna fix it. Now."

"And how the hell do you propose I do that?"

"You're going to teach him how to skate."

Dean parted his fingers over his eyes just in time to see a satisfied smirk flitting across his brother's face. _Oh, Shit._ This was not happening. He couldn't refuse - what reason could he possibly give? But the idea of teaching Castiel to skate, where undoubtedly there would be a lot of physical touch required, was daunting.

"...Skate?" Dean echoed in shock.

"Yes, Dean, skate. You know, with roller skates, like we used to when we were kids? They're the shoes with wheels on them, in case you're forgetting."

"I-But, I can't just- Sam!" Dean sputtered, watching his brother's grin grow. "Where the hell did you even get the idea?!"

"Well actually," Sam spoke seriously. "We were watching some old videos I found - the one where we went skating when Dad was on the banshee hunt, remember? Cas and Jack got real excited and wanted to try."

Dean groaned inwardly. He remembered. Sam had been real down and Dean, trying to cheer him up, took him to a skate rink. Some old lady had offered to video them, and Sam had insisted on retrieving the tape for 'memories'.

"Seriously, Sam? Skating? We're not kids anymore." Dean tried, hoping to head off this line of thinking.

"No, we're not. But they've never done half the things we have, Dean. Don't they deserve the chance, while we've got the time to show them the best parts of life? The parts we enjoyed so much?"

Damn. That right there was the guilt trip, the one Sam used so well, because he knew Dean couldn't refuse it. Next he'd be pulling out the puppy eyes, and-nope, with a quick glance, Dean realised it was too late. Puppy eyes in full force.

"Fine." Dean grated out. "Where are we getting skates?"

"No need." Puppy dog eyes were gone, replaced with a triumphant grin. "There's a place in Salina. We can rent skates, and it's only an hour and a half drive."

"Fine. Fine." Dean grunted, giving in.

"Excellent. Oh, I forgot to mention - since it's the first Saturday of the month, it's adult only retro night."

"Fantastic." Dean muttered to his brother's laughing, retreating back.

He heaved a sigh and moved off the table, bee-lining for the fridge. He grabbed a beer and had just popped the top and raised it to his mouth, when a hand closed over his own, stopping the motion. He glanced sharply at the owner of said hand.

"And you're going _sober_ " Sam threatened, a warning glint in his eye as he replaced the beer in the fridge.

" _Fantastic_."

* * *

A little over two hours later, Dean's initial apprehension had worn off. The drive over had been refreshing - it was nice to leave the bunker without the threat of a case. Castiel had raised conversation as though nothing had happened between them, and he found himself easily slipping back into their comfortable companionship.

It ended up with him being almost excited as he sat with Cas on a bench seat, helping him to fit the roller skates snugly to his feet. Not that he was going to show that, naturally.

Castiel, for his part, had become apprehensive as they arrived at the skatel. Even now, while Dean was helping him 'gear up', he was nervous. Skating looked easy, but now that he was here, he wasn't sure he would be good at it. Still, he thought as he noticed Dean glancing at his brother and Jack on another bench, the hunter had promised to help him.

"Alright, Cas," Dean started, surprising himself by how stable he was as he stood on his own skates. "Remember what I said. Take it slow, keep your knees bent and stay low. If you fall, fall forward - your wrist guards will protect you. If you have to fall backwards, pick a cheek to land on so you don't break your tailbone."

"Uh.. Yeah, Jack, what he said." Sam's voice drifted across, catching Dean's attention.

Dean glanced over at his brother and grinned slightly. Sam was standing, but he didn't miss the way his brother quickly bent his knees as he'd spoken. He appeared stable enough, however, giving Dean confidence that his brother would be fine as he turned his attention back to the angel, who was still sitting.

"Up and at 'em, Cas." Dean prompted.

"Dean. It is physically impossible for me to stand on these things without falling." Castiel grumbled, rolling his feet back and forth.

Dean laughed, the hilarity of the moment taking him unexpectedly. Here was an angel of the lord, never hesitating to face down a range of hellish creatures, yet afraid to stand on a pair of roller skates. He stopped laughing, however, when Cas levelled a deadly glare at him.

"C'mon Cas, you'll be fine. I won't let you fall."

"I find that hard to believe." Cas commented dryly.

Dean huffed out a slightly frustrated sigh, offering his hands out to the angel to hold onto. Castiel took them with minimal hesitation and slowly pulled himself up to stand, shakily.

"Bend your knees, remember. But keep your chest up."

Castiel followed the instruction, pleasantly surprised at the stability the pose offered. Dean adjusted him slightly until he was happy with the position - yet even when he was ready, Cas didn't let go of the hunter's hands.

"Okay, that's good, that's great Cas. Now you have to learn to shift your weight. So if you think of your center of balance, you need to focus on that. So shift that over to your left foot, and when you're ready you lift the opposite foot."

Dean demonstrated what he meant, lifting each foot one after the other, balancing from side to side. Castiel tried it, and after a few minutes of shaky attempts, Dean was confident that he had the basic idea of it. He barely noticed Sam and Jack copying their activities, a little off to the side. None of them had ventured into the actual rink yet.

"I think you've got that. Now skating is just lifting one foot after the other. When you put your right foot down, you push with your left before you lift it. And vice versa."

"That makes no sense, Dean."

"Okay, look, just watch what I do." Dean laughed, shifting his weight so he rolled back, leading Cas to the wall of the rink.

He moved Cas' grip to the wall and made sure he was stable, then turned toward the rink. He hoped he hadn't forgotten how to do this - but as he took his first experimental glides onto the concrete, he knew that his muscle memory was completely intact.

For a Saturday night, the rink was pretty empty. That was a fact he was glad of as he skated a few experimental rounds, to get a feel for the activity again. He decided to skip cross overs - that would end in disaster if the others tried it - exaggerating his movements as he turned his upper body toward the direction he wanted to go, his feet following the movement to allow him to skate corners with ease.

By the time he got back to the wall where Castiel was still holding on, he was laughing, face alight with exhilaration. Sam and Jack were already on the rink, moving slowly and carefully.

"Ready to try?" He asked, holding his hands out again.

Castiel took a deep breath and nodded, placing his trust in Dean as he reached out and took his hands. Dean pulled his friend along as he propelled himself backwards onto the rink, gently reminding him occasionally to adjust his position.

They skated around the rink, holding tight onto each other. Dean's eyes never left the angel's blue ones as he taught him how to shift his weight, how to put some power into each glide, how to regain his balance if he felt like he would fall.

Dean was surprised at how quickly Castiel was picking up the movements and commented on how well the angel was doing. It didn't take long before Cas had pulled one hand back, and they began skating side by side. They still had one hand linked, though, and Dean kept telling himself it was for stability.

"I watched a lot of videos." Cas explained in response to Dean's comment. "They were rather confusing. With you demonstrating, however, they seem to have made sense."

Suddenly music blared through the speakers, and Dean winced as he heard tunes from the 80's at top volume. The lights started flashing disco colours, and Dean realised that this place was going all out for 'retro night'. He glanced over at Cas, prepared to make a comment. A quick glance at the grin on the angel's face, however, stopped him. Cas was really enjoying this.

"Catch me if you can." Cas suddenly announced.

Dean barely had a moment to register the mischievous glint in Castiel's eyes before he was off, powering into his strides as though he'd been skating for years. He was momentarily frozen by shock, until his competitive side pushed through and a grin curved his lips.

"Oh, you're on!" He called, and sped after the angel.

So began a game of cat and mouse. Dean would draw close to the angel, reaching out to tag him - then Castiel would suddenly veer to the side, laughing as Dean careened past him, making him do an entire lap to catch up again. They had an unspoken rule not to skate back, following the counter-clockwise rotation that the rink rules defined.

After some time, Dean began to pick up on the pattern and form a strategy. As he approached, he watched Cas shift slightly to the left - in preparation for veering off, he realised. He grinned as he got closer and reached out, preparing to tag the angel...

Moments later he gasped as he realised he'd misjudged. Cas wasn't veering off quite as fast as he had expected, he'd reached out a little too far, and in seconds he was losing balance, reflexively grabbing the shoulder he'd been aiming to tag.

Castiel's shocked blue eyes met his as he was pulled around, forcing them into a spin of sorts. Dean was backwards now, off balance, they were going to fall - and then his back slammed against the rink wall, his feet slipped - and Castiel's body slammed hard against his, the angel's hands gripping the wall tightly, using his own body to stabilise Dean.

They stared at each other, both breathing hard from exertion and.. something else, Dean realised, shifting his thighs uncomfortably. A moment later he heard Castiel's sharp intake of breath, and his eyes widened slightly. Feeling incredibly bold, he shifted again - and this time he felt the hardness pressed against his thigh, his thoughts confirmed as a quiet groan came from Castiel's gritted teeth.

Dean glanced around self-consciously - but nobody was taking notice of them. Probably because there weren't that many other people on the rink and those who were, were focused on each other. Castiel took advantage of his distraction to press harder against him, shifting just slightly to grind their erections hard against each other through layers of clothing.

"Oh shit..." Dean breathed, his head dropping forward onto Cas' shoulder as shocks travelled up his spine.

He really should do something, say something to stop this before it went too far. They were in public, and this was Cas, and surely the angel was just reacting to adrenaline, so they definately needed to-

"Dean..." Cas groaned into his ear, rolling his hips.

That single sound blew every thought out of his mind right then and there, causing an actual whimper to bubble out of his throat. Cas chuckled, prompting an indignant response from Dean. The protest died on his lips, however, as Cas had managed to slip a hand between the wall and himself, pulling Dean hard against him with a hand on his ass.

Whatever Dean had been attempting to say, it turned into a low, throaty groan muffled by his mouth against Cas' neck. He was shaking now, breath coming in short little gasps, a totally embarrassing reaction to such little stimulation. The years of longing and lust and barely there touches were bringing him undone faster than he'd like to admit, and Cas was giving no mercy.

Short, imperceptible little rolls of his hips were rubbing their cocks together in a delicious way, and there was no denying that the angel intended on getting him off right there in front of everyone. The part of Dean's mind that was trying to convince him not to do this had gone silent now, and it was only Cas' full body on his that kept him from bucking into the angel, desperate as he felt heat working its way from his belly down to his balls.

"Cas... You gotta... I'm gonna..." He babbled into Cas' neck between little whines and whimpers.

"Hush, Dean, unless you want to give us away." Cas groaned in his ear, his grip on the man's ass tightening until it was almost painful.

Damn, where had the shy, hesitant, well-spoken Cas gone? Dean quickly realised that Cas knew exactly what he was doing to the man, and had possibly planned something like this. He was showing Dean a side of himself that nobody ever saw - and Dean wanted more of it. That thought alone sent fire through his nerves, and he came completely undone.

"Ca-Cas-Ngh!" Dean gasped out, pupils blown wide before his eyes slipped shut.

Dean bit down sharply on the flesh in front of his lips as his pleasure overtook him, orgasm ripping through him painfully hard. He heard a hiss of pain but he couldn't focus on it, his vision flashing white behind his eyes as his cock throbbed in his pants, spreading wetness through the material. His body completely slumped, Cas' body pressing him into the wall the only thing holding him up.

When he finally came back to himself he pulled his head back, eyes wide in shock as he saw two very clear, teeth shaped bruises on the angel's neck.

"Oh shit, Cas, I'm sorry-" He started to blabber.

"Don't be." Castiel cut him off, voice low with with a distinct tone of barely controlled lust that sent shivers through Dean again.

"Dude, you alright?"

And that was Sam. Coming to check on them. _Fantastic_ , Dean thought, wondering how the hell to explain this.

"Oh, yeah, um, I-" Dean started.

"Dean injured himself. I was assisting him to rest until he can continue." Castiel answered Sam instead, not skipping a beat.

"Oh, right. Well as long as you're okay." Sam grinned at Dean, not missing how close the two were.

Dean just nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Sam was perceptive - he knew something was going on. But there was no way he could pick up on exactly what had just occurred, Dean was certain. He would have pulled a massive bitch face if he knew and been lecturing him on the 'undecency of it all'.

"Well, hurry up, this place won't be open all night!" Sam yelled as he skated off.

Dean shook his head at his brother, then glanced at the angel's body - he realised that while he had just come in his pants like a freakin teenager, Cas was still sporting a rather impressive erection that was still pressing against his thigh.

"Uh, Cas.. You didn't..."

Dean glanced down to indicate what he meant, then back up at Cas as the angel met his eyes again - and realised that mischievous glint was back. Cas leant forward again, and Dean's breath hitched, until he realised it was just to speak quietly in his ear.

"We'll finish this later, Dean."

Then Cas pushed off the wall and joined Sam and Jack, leaving Dean to quickly turn himself around, flushing furiously as he tried to find a way to the bathroom without revealing the slightly wet mark on the front of his pants.


	3. Chapter 3

'Later' didn't happen that night. Or the next day, as a matter of fact.

Dean's emotions on this were confusing. On one hand, he felt like every nerve in his body was constantly on fire, from the moment Cas' body had touched his, and having to wait for an uncertain outcome was frustrating. He wanted Cas, and he wanted him NOW.

On the other hand, part of him was relieved at the prospect of pretending nothing had happened, ignoring what it could mean, and not having to face the emotions inside himself.

Cas was his best friend. Dean was strung out and seriously needed to get laid. And mister angel-of-the-lord probably had no idea what doing something like that meant. Of course, he would just see that Dean had a problem and assume that he could help relieve it.

 _You keep telling yourself that,_ A small voice inside him whispered, which he ignored. Of course. Because nothing was ever that straight-cut for Dean Winchester.

On the third morning, he found himself downing two cups of coffee in a row and starting on a third before he could even process the fact that his three companions were sitting at the small kitchen table with him, discussing something in excited voices.

"Case?" He mumbled tiredly. He hadn't been sleeping well.

"Nope, still quiet on that front." Sam answered, though he was grinning at Dean like he expected him to guess something.

Which naturally, only served to irritate him in his grumpy, pre-caffeine-hit morning mood.

"Okay let's cut the next half hour of crap and one of you tell me what's going on, then." Dean grumbled, glaring at each of them in turn.

"Dean, it is quite unnecessary to be so frustrated at this time of morning." Castiel commented, one corner of his lips lifting in a smirk.

All the angel got in response was another deadly glare, before Dean turned his attention back to Sam. The younger brother grinned, reaching over to flip over the top of a bag Dean hadn't even realised was sitting on top of the table, revealing-

"What the hell?!" Dean exclaimed, expression moving to confusion. "Is that-"

"Paintball guns." Sam responded proudly.

"Paintball guns." Dean echoed, gazing at Sam with a what-the-hell look. "Is this another of your brainiac ideas like skating?"

"Exactly." This time Sam gave him a warning look, one that said don't-you-dare-argue-this.

Dean glanced around at the other two. Jack looked excited, ready to jump out of his seat at any moment. Cas looked - well, Dean could swear he had that same mischievous glint in his eye. He sighed in defeat, dropping his head down on the table.

"Where the hell did you even get paintball guns, Sam?"

"Castiel got them!" Jack exclaimed, ignoring Sam's noises to be quiet.

Dean lifted his head back up to stare at Castiel first in disbelief, then suspicion.

"So you stole them?"

"No, Dean. Stealing them would imply I did not intend to return them." Castiel sniffed, offended. "I am simply borrowing them for a time."

"Where-wait. Nope. I don't want to know." Dean answered, shaking his head. He couldn't help a slight grin, though.

"Either way, we've got them, plus extra rounds. So are you up for a game?" Sam asked. "Or are you too scared we might beat you?"

"Pfft! Right. Where are we playing."

"We were thinking free range." Sam answered. "Outside the bunker."

"This is a terrible idea." Dean groaned, draining the rest of his coffee. "Okay, let's talk rules."

"There are rules when shooting each other?" Cas cut in, looking confused for the first time that morning.

"Yeah, Cas, there's rules. Otherwise the game would never end, or some of us would get an unfair advantage." Dean snipped, still in his irritatable mood.

"Oh."

"How about standard rules, last man standing wins or at... let's say sundown, the one with the least welts wins." Sam started.

They all nodded, that was straightforward enough.

"Once we leave the bunker, ten minutes no fire to find our positions." Dean added.

They spent the next ten minutes discussing and agreeing on the rules - eventually writing a list that they all signed off on, very formally.

* * *

1 - The one with the least marks at sundown wins in lieu of last-man-standing.

2 - Ten minutes to find starting positions.

3 - No loitering in one position for longer than five minutes at a time, players must keep moving.

4 - No team advantage - every man for himself and contact between players should not be amicable unless temporary cease fire called.

5 - No re-entry to bunker before sundown.

6 - No unethical use of skills/abilities other than paintball guns and spare rounds.

7 - Trades between players allowed within reason ie. trading extra rounds for five minutes ceasefire between participants in the trade.

8 - No headshots

9 - No melee

10 - In case of impending apocalypse, Poughkeepsie.

* * *

With their rules written out and signed on, the four seperated to get ready for the day. Sam informed them to meet in the war room at noon for kick-off. Dean, heading off to the shower, found himself looking forward to the game despite his trepidation.

As he stepped under the warm flow of water, he found himself wondering what would happen. Surely, it wouldn't be anything like what had happened at the skating rink - Damn. He cursed himself for thinking of that as his cock twitched with interest.

He tried to ignore it, soaping his body clean - but he couldn't get the memory of Cas' body pressed against his, or the taste of his skin as he'd bitten down, out of his head. And damn it to hell, he wanted more.

 _Screw it_ He thought, leaning back against the shower wall and letting his head drop back. His eyes closed as he ran his hands down, over his chest and down his belly. His breath hitched as he circled around the base of his cock, not touching it yet, teasing.

Images flashed through his mind, imagining that it was Cas' hands on him. Cas' fingers gently moving down his legs, tickling up his inner thighs. Cas' blue eyes staring up at him as his fingertips gently stroked up from the base of his cock, circling around the tip teasingly. Cas' palm that cupped his balls, even as his other hand formed a firm grip around his erection and started stroking slowly, teasingly.

A soft groan escaped as his hips bucked forward into his own hand, desperate for more. His other hand - Cas' hand, he imagined - gently massaged his balls, bringing another sensation. He hadn't so much as touched himself since the skating rink and he was embarrassingly, achingly close already, despite trying to draw it out.

As his hand started moving faster over his already dripping cock, he remembered the feel of Cas' hard erection pressing into his thigh, the way the angel had rutted against him. Unbidden, his hand released his balls and moved downwards, backward, gently circling around his hole, bringing a gasp.

His mind conjured the sound of Castiel groaning in his ear, and suddenly he was coming violently and quickly with a hoarse cry, his knees buckling as his cock pulsed and sent a stream of white to join with the running water and circle down the drain.

Moments later he came back to himself, crouching with his back still pressed against the shower wall. He opened his eyes slowly, shaking slightly and gasping in breaths of air. A hard knocking on the door shocked him out of the moment, followed by a worried voice - Cas, asking if he was alright.

"Fine!" He called back, cursing the tremor in his voice. "Just, uh, slipped. I'm fine."

There was a moments silence before he heard the footsteps retreating, and sighed in relief.

"Well, shit." He muttered to himself.

Dean cleaned himself off - again - then finished his shower and headed back into his room to dress. The whole time he focused on completely ignoring the confusing, accusing thoughts running through his head.

* * *

Three hours into their game, Dean took a knee behind a large tree to assess his situation. After a quick scan of his body, he noted that he'd been hit seven times - once near his temple, which judging by the blue paint meant it was Jack. Dean didn't mind too much - he could cut the kid some slack for an accidental hit. It had, however, given him a pretty good headache.

Two on his front were yellow, which were from a particularly amusing confrontation with Sam. They had crossed paths on a residential street and, using the parked cars as shields, fired at each other amid confusion from passers-by. They hurled insults back and forth, laughing like children as they fired mercilessly, anything not moving quickly caught in the crossfire.

The telltale sound of a siren in the distance, however, had them calling a temporary ceasefire and retreating together, laughing. From what Dean had seen during their quick escape, he had managed to get a few more hits on Sam than what he'd received.

The four remaining paint splatters were red, which left only Castiel. One on his chest, one his stomach, and two on the back of his shoulders. Yet he hadn't had a confrontation with him yet - he'd barely even caught a glimpse of the angel, ducking behind various objects, gone as soon as he'd caught up. That sneaky bastard had caught him unawares every time, and Dean found himself focusing directly on hunting the angel down.

Collecting his thoughts together, he decided the best move would be strategy - luring Cas into an area in which he would have the advantage. Residential areas were a tempting thought - he was sure Cas would find it difficult to navigate other people - but after his earlier brush with Sam he decided against it, figuring they wouldn't get away so easily twice.

Dean took in his surroundings - he noticed he was in a small, but relatively dense copse of trees on the edge of the town. It was an area with little manoeuvrability, yet plenty of places to stay out of sight. It would be a perfect point to stage an ambush... All he had to do was lure the angel in.

He had a plan for that.

An hour later, he was honestly starting to lose hope in his plan. He was recklessly walking the streets in full view, making little effort to hide from his opponents, and yet he so far had not come across any opposition. He was about ready to give up when his ears caught a sound and he ducked behind a car, just in time to see a splatter of red on the road.

 _Gotcha_

A grin curved his lips as he ramped his efforts up again, ducking and weaving through the streets in an untraceable pattern that slowly curved back toward the trees. A few times, he thought he may have lost the angel - but a flash of a trench coat, or a glimpse of dark, messy hair, encouraged him on until he was finally crashing into the copse of trees and darting behind a thick trunk to wait.

He didn't need to wait long.

Dean listened to the footsteps as they drew closer to his hiding place, holding his breath - and they continued straight past him and further into the trees. Dean stayed where he was for a moment - he wasn't going to ambush the angel just yet, rather give him some time to let his guard down.

So he followed, quietly and from a distance, as Castiel searched through the trees for his target. Dean grinned, the phrase 'the hunter becomes the hunted' flashing through his mind. Yet, before he could gloat too much in his mind, he realised he had lost sight of the angel. Damn!

His movements became less quiet as he moved faster, searching for his target. Castiel couldn't have left the copse of trees, surely. He couldn't have lost his chance to ambush the angel, no way. As he started to panic, he saw it - just the edge of a tan trench coat, behind a tree to his right.

A grin curved his lips as he moved toward the tree. The coat moved slightly with the breeze - Castiel wasn't moving from the spot, obviously taking a rest. It was the perfect ambush, Dean thought as he moved closer. He was almost there, it was almost time. He lifted the gun, finger over the trigger as he reached out, fingertips almost brushing the coat with his plan to grab Cas, pull him out and repay the welts he had left on Dean. Almost-

As he touched the edge of the cloth, he felt a hard circle in the arch of his back, and froze.

"Bang." A low, gravelly voice that sent fire through his veins whispered.

"Shit." Dean answered with a growl, a tumble of emotions flowing through him in the moment.

Embarrassment, that he had been duped. Anger that the damn angel had got the better of him. And, shocking him, a desperate lust that near knocked him to his knees - he slumped forward against the tree in defeat, instead.

"Thought we agreed no using special abilities." Dean muttered angrily, sure that Castiel was using his angel mojo to get the better of him.

"I wasn't." The whisper came from right beside his ear this time, and the breath that tickled across his cheek with a short chuckle sent shivers through him.

"Oh, Dean. Besting you is not difficult when your intentions are so... obvious."

Dean huffed indignantly at that, offended. He thought he had been quite sneaky in his intentions.

"Man, just shoot me and get it over with." Dean growled, pissed off now. "You win."

"No, Dean. I have not won." Castiel answered in his ear, easing the pressure of his gun away from Dean's back. "Not yet."

Faster than Dean could react, Dean felt a strong hand grip his shoulder and yank him around, before pressing him back against the tree, hard. He found himself trapped against the tree by Castiel's forearm driving hard into his upper chest. His breath hitched as he stared into blue eyes, barely an inch from his own.

"Cas? What are you-"

"This seems familiar, doesn't it Dean?" Cas growled at him, cutting him off. "Except last time, I was the one trapped. Do you remember?"

Dean dropped his eyes then. Oh, he remembered. But he didn't particularly want to. He was always more violent with Cas than he was with anyone else, excepting Sam. It was something he hadn't wrapped his head around, hadn't tried, hadn't wanted to. The why of it.

"You remember. Only, this is going to go a little differently. The way it should have gone, the first time."

Suddenly, the angel's body was pressed against Dean's, the forearm driving hard and painfully into his chest. Dean gasped, eyes flying wide open to stare into Castiel's again. There was something in those eyes, something he wished so desperately for, but also that his mind desperately tried to push away.

"Cas, what... We can't-Can't do that again- Oh _shit_.."

Dean started blabbering his protests, ending with a curse as Cas pressed harder against him, his cock answering for itself with a shocking pulse that sent a wave of pleasure through him.

"Dean.." Castiel groaned out his name huskily as he rolled his hips against his hunter. "For once, shut up."

"Okay.." Dean breathed, surprising himself as the word left his mouth.

Damn, he was so far gone he wasn't even going to try to stop this, and it had barely started. His hips were bucking forward of their own accord, humping shamelessly into the angel as he realised he had dropped his gun, and his hands were gripping Castiel's upper arms with desperation.

"Good." Castiel breathed in his ear before dropping his head down to Dean's neck and-

Dean yelped when the angel bit down. He _bit him_ , dammit. What the hell was that? And yet, his body was responding to the light pain, fire running through his nerves as his cock twitched hungrily, hips rolling forward of their own accord.

"You like that. You like when I bite you." Castiel stated, very matter of fact considering their current situation.

"Mm." Dean could barely answer, a whimper escaping with the affirmation. Damn, since when did dean _whimper_?!

Castiel's hands moved underneath the dark shirt he wore, brushing across bare skin which sent tremors through Dean's body. Damn, he was reacting like a teenager to this shit, he never acted like this. He flushed lightly with embarrassment, but it didn't stop him from arching his back and crying out when Cas dug his fingers hard into his hips, his own nails digging into the angel's shoulders.

"Shit, Cas.." He panted, wriggling against the tree. "Where the hell did you learn to do this shit?"

"I researched." Cas answered simply, drawing a throaty moan from Dean as his hands moved up to tweak the man's nipples.

"O-of course.. you.. did..." Dean panted, head dropping back against the tree as his eyes closed. His mind was spinning. "You.. used my laptop..."

"I did. I found a lot of research, Dean."

"I bet.."

Dean froze as Castiel's hands moved down toward the jeans he wore. His mind refused to catch up, spinning as he felt the button pop, the zip pull down. Cas was slow and careful as he slipped his hands beneath the fabric at his sides, slowly pushing the lower part of his clothing down.

Excitement was coursing through his body, certainly made obvious as his cock sprang free from it's restraints, hanging proud and heavy. The restraint he had always practiced seemed to have died with his desperation, along with the protests he had been forming in his mind.

When Castiel's hand gripped hard around his cock he jumped, letting out a loud and throaty moan that had Cas clapping his hand over the hunter's mouth.

"Dean, while I could spend an eternity listening to your pleasure, I don't believe it would be a good idea to bring the residents running."

Dean lifted his head to stare at Castiel, pupils blown wide with desire. He nodded shakily, showing his understanding, and the angel removed his hand.

"Cas... please.." He whispered, trying to lean forward to catch the angel's lips with his own.

Castiel, however, held him firmly against the tree, pressing harder against him, if that were even possible. Dean groaned, low in his throat, and dropped his head back against the tree with a slight crack.

"You're killin me here, man."

Suddenly Castiel's weight was gone from him, and he felt an aching loss that he dare not confront. He stared up at the canopy again, afraid to look down and see Castiel finally rejecting him, as he had expected all along.

Just as quickly, everything changed, and he yelped as he felt a wet heat around his cock, setting off white lights behind his eyes as his mind spinned out of control. His hands shot down to grab hold of whatever it was, and he found himself gripping onto strands of hair as he gasped in deep breaths, trying to center himself.

"Shit, Cas.. What... Oh shit..."

He glanced down, to find himself staring into mischievous, dancing blue eyes, staring up at him as Cas' lips stretched around the head of his cock. The angel was circling his tongue around the head of Dean's cock while sucking gently, and it was driving him insane.

"Ohhhh, shit..." He groaned loudly, gripping tighter into Cas' hair. Sparks shot up his spine, and he barely felt it when his legs gave out and he dropped to his knees.

The pleasure shooting through him, from his spine to his abdomen, was incredible. Sure, he'd had blowjobs before, but something about this was indescribably different. Castiel's mouth on his cock felt like nothing he had ever known, and he barely heard himself moaning out loudly as his hips bucked forward against his will.

Instead of choking, Cas took his whole length as it thrusted into his mouth his tongue pressed hard against the underside of Dean's cock, drawing even more delicious moans from the hunter.

"Jesus.. Cas... I-if you don't... don't slow down." Dean gritted out, the words punctuated by needy, desperate moans. "I'm not gonna... last long.."

"Mmm." Cas hummed around his cock, the vibration sending shocks through his body.

Dean could already feel the heat pooling in his belly, his balls drawing up tight, asshole starting to clench with the effort of holding back. His statement didn't deter the angel - instead he started to bob his head, nearly drawing completely off Dean before dipping back down, until his lips were brushing the base of his cock.

Dean had long since let go of Cas' hair, and as he felt the waves of pleasure growing stronger, he scrabbled for something to hold onto. Unexpectedly, Castiel's hand was gripping onto his, and he held on for dear life.

"Damn... Shit... Cas, I can't... I'm close, so close, please Cas..." Dean started babbling, nerves shooting electric shocks through his spine as he felt the tidal wave drawing closer.

Instead of moving away Cas just held him tighter, and then on one of the up strokes, that damn angel flicked his tongue over Dean's slit.

Dean's back arched forward in an almost impossible move, thrusting his hips forward to bury his cock into Castiel's throat violently.

"Cas.. Cas.." He gasped out the angel's name as the climax approached, so close, he could feel it, he drew in a deep, shaking breath...

" _Castiel_!"

A hand clapped over his mouth, muffling the name he screamed as his orgasm took him violently, rushing over him in waves of pure ecstasy as he pumped once, twice, three times into Castiel's sinful mouth, emptying his seed down the angel's throat.

Castiel didn't even wince, swallowing the salty fluid down his throat as though he was an absolute pro. He suckled at Dean gently as he slowly went soft, panting and completely spent. Cas only pulled away when Dean's body jumped, reacting to post-orgasm sensitivity.

"Shit, Cas.." Dean finally muttered, his limbs still shaking.

He sat back on his knees, opening his eyes to see Castiel staring at him with a smug grin, licking the corner of his lips. Castiel's eyes, however, were filled with a desire that knocked the breath out of him, despite coming only minutes before.

"Are you gonna.. Let me have a turn now?" Dean breathed, starting to move toward the angel.

He would tell Cas it was just out of respect, reciprocating the actions Cas had performed on Dean. He would even tell himself that, even make an effort to believe it. But at some point, he would have to admit that it wasn't that simple. He wanted Cas, wanted to see him fall apart like he so effectively did to Dean. He wanted to watch the angel surrender control, completely, just for him.

But apparently it wasn't to be, as Cas pulled away and stood up.

"We'll finish this later," He answered in a low voice, with a definitively predatory grin. "The game is almost over."

For a moment Dean was confused - until he remembered they were meant to be playing a game of paintball. Of course that was the game Cas was thinking of. Because there was no other game... was there? He grunted with displeasure as his legs finally found the strength to stand, and he started fixing his clothing up.

"You said that last time." He grumbled unhappily.

"And did I not deliver?" Cas purred, suddenly in his face.

Dean's next breath was sharp, suddenly wondering how Cas could put him so on edge like that. It was something he didn't want to answer to himself.

"Nearly sundown." Dean changed the subject rather effectively, his gruff exterior back now that he was dressed properly. "We may as well forfeit, considering I think we broke half the rules."

"You may do that. I plan to win." Castiel's grin was entirely devilish.

Dean glanced at Cas' body - a shock running through him as he realised Castiel had been hit seven times. Exactly the same as him. That, of course, meant they were tied, assuming the other two had been hit more times. Dean was sure he had hit Sam at least eight times, by himself. Jack he wasn't sure about.

"And how do you plan to do that?" He asked quietly, afraid that he knew what the answer was.

"By doing something stupid." Cas answered, "Sorry, Dean."

"What for- oh shit."

Before he had time to react, Cas had picked up the gun he had dropped, and shot him square in the chest. With his own damn gun. Just as quickly, the angel bolted, leaving Dean standing against the tree with a green splatter of paint across his chest.

Looking up, he realised it was quickly getting dark. Sundown.

Damn. That bastard was going to pay, he thought as he headed off, back toward the bunker. Yet despite his angry muttering, a grin curled across his lips, unable to help riding high on the memories of what had just happened.

Next time, he was going to damn well make sure that 'later' happened.


	4. Chapter 4

"Sam said he had an idea for tonight."

Dean froze, half way through turning a page of a car magazine, as Jack's voice drifted across the massive map table. _Please no more games, I can't take much more of this, he's driving me insane_ -

"Oh?" Castiel answered, sitting up straight in the chair with interest. "What has he got in mind? Another game?"

 _That conniving, kinky bastard, I know that tone_

"No, actually. He said we might watch some movies. He's setting it up now, but he said we'll wait until after dinner."

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. No games, surely that meant he was safe from whatever Castiel had been playing at lately. The idea that the angel had no idea what he was doing to him, just reacting off adrenaline, was still a tempting conclusion. As time went on, however, he was having trouble forcing himself to believe it, and he honestly wasn't sure how much more of things like what happened the day before he could take.

And so it was that the four of them ended up preparing for a movie marathon that night. At some point, he'd finished off the 'Dean Cave' adding in a large, dark leather couch along with a brand new - curse free, Sam informed Dean - flatscreen tv. Sam took great effort to explain in detail all of the things the tv could do, including connecting to Netflix and Stan.

"It could connect to Venus for all I care, as long as it plays movies." Dean had grunted.

"Well, actually Dean, it is-" Castiel started to explain.

"Figure of speech, Cas!"

Sam shot a quizzical look at Dean, who had chosen to sit on the couch with Cas, leaving the arm chairs for Sam and Jack. Dean shrugged in response, averting his eyes quickly as a flush crept up his neck. Sam frowned at him, then glanced back at the tv, using the remote to search through the movie titles.

Dean wriggled against the couch, digging the packets of jerky he had brought along out of his pockets. He dropped them on the space between himself and Cas, then settled back into a comfortable position. As comfortable as he could be, considering the very small space separating himself from the angel. Part of him was still hoping something would happen between them again tonight, despite his earlier fear of exactly that. After the events of the day before, with yet another promised 'later', he wanted Cas more than he'd ever thought possible.

But the other part of him, the _sane part_ , was still afraid, and he shivered slightly in response to the thought. He didn't like admitted fear of anything, but there it was.

"Would you like to share my blanket, Dean?" Castiel asked, offering one side of the large blanket he had brought. Then, in response to a confused look from Dean, he added, "Shivering generally means you are cold."

He saw another one of those quizzical looks from Sam. The room wasn't cold at all. Cool, maybe, but not cold. He briefly considered declining the offer, but since Cas had outed his shiver to the others, it would have been extremely hard to explain why he was shivering if he wasn't cold.

"Uh-Sure. Thanks, man."

His breath hitched when their fingertips brushed, and as he pulled half of the blanket over himself, he glanced up straight into the angel's eyes and - oh, damn, he had that mischievous glint again, and one look sent heat curling straight up his spine.

"Oh, seems it's not quite big enough. You'll have to move a bit closer." Castiel told him innocently, lips curving in a slight smirk.

Damn. He was dead, for sure. The angel was going to absolutely wreck him, he knew it. Still, he had no legitimate reason to refuse in front of the others - so he shifted closer until finally the blanket covered them both properly, which just happened to be so close their legs and shoulders were touching.

"That's better." Cas commented, then proceeded to curl his legs up, turn into him and drop his head on Dean's shoulder, staring at the tv.

That time, Sam shot a very surprised look over Cas' head, completely forgetting the tv as he stared at his brother, waiting for the inevitable Dean-pushes-Cas-away moment.

Dean looked back at him, widening his eyes and shrugging the opposite shoulder in a way that said I-dunno-I-wasn't-expecting-that.

Sam raised his eyebrows in return, the look sending across and-you're-okay-with-that?

Dean shrugged again, dropping his eyes this time. That definately projected an I-don't-mind-I-guess kind of vibe. They both knew the angel wasn't the best at social expectations, and Dean hoped Sam would think that's all it was. Meanwhile part of him was hoping that wasn't all it was, it was something more. More than just this game they had been playing.

"Are you going to press play, Sam?" Jack asked, interrupting their silent conversation.

"Oh, right. Sorry." Sam mumbled, averting his eyes again.

As the first 'Harry Potter' movie began, Cas snuggled closer into Dean's side. A warmth blossomed through his chest, something that was different from the previous heat in oh so many ways. It was a feeling that terrified him far more than anything else.

* * *

It took the entirety of the first movie to answer all of Castiel's questions to a point where he actually settled down and started enjoying the story. Between them, Dean and Sam took great care in building enough of a backstory for Cas and Jack to understand, without giving any of the future movies away.

Cas appreciated the effort, and as the second movie began, he settled back into Dean more comfortably. Sam had long given up on his confused looks, settling into a comfortable silence between the four of them.

It was nice, Dean found himself thinking, this closeness with his best friend. It was something that he didn't even realise he'd been missing, for so very long. That feeling of security, contentment, maybe something... more.

He didn't have long to muse on that thought, however - Castiel's fingers lightly ghosting along his inner thigh ripped his mind straight back to to the here and now.

Dean glanced down at the angel, whose head was still resting on his shoulder, with an incredulous look. Cas merely smirked back at him, moving his hand further up Dean's thigh, toward his crotch. Dean had his arm around Cas' shoulders, and his fingers gripped tight, digging into the soft skin of the angel's upper arm.

He tried, and failed miserably, to hide the hitch in his breath as Cas' hand drifted over his hardening erection, pausing for a moment to give a light squeeze before moving to the button on his pants.

The blanket was doing a fantastic job of hiding Cas' movements, even when he lowered the zip on Dean's pants and slowly, carefully slipped a hand inside. Dean found himself losing all reason, the arm around Cas' shoulders trying to pull the angel closer as soft skin trailed over his now fully hard cock, sending shivers through his body and heat up his spine.

It was wrong, so wrong, to be doing this here, in the same room with the others but somehow Dean found himself losing a mental battle that he never really started. Somewhere along the time his protest to Cas' closeness had died - whether it had started that first time, or later on, he didn't know. All he knew right now was the heat working itself over his skin as Cas' hand gripped him and started to work his cock in long, slow movements.

Dean dropped his head against the back of the couch, biting his lip to prevent any sound slipping out as he closed his eyes. Everything he had was focused on trying not to buck his hips up, force Cas to move faster, even as he could feel the smirking gaze boring into him.

"You okay there Dean?"

Sam's voice brought him crashing back into reality, and he tried to think of something to reply that wouldn't give away the present situation, seeing as how Cas _that bastard_ had not stopped lavishing attention on his cock.

"I believe Dean is tired - perhaps we should retire after this movie?" Cas answered for him, perfectly composed. Dean realised at some point the third movie had started up.

"Oh, sure Cas. We can stop, and finish this later."

"After this one finishes." Cas insisted.

"If you're sure, then." Sam agreed. "But if he starts snoring, I'm out."

"Oh, I'm certain he won't be snoring."

Dean could hear the mirth in Cas' tone, but judging by the silence that followed, it went completely (and thankfully) over Sam's head.

As conversation died and the sounds of the movie took over once more, Dean was able to really focus on what Cas was doing. His hand moved firmly, yet frustratingly slowly, over his cock. Precum slicked the way, Cas' thumb stroked over his head to spread the sticky substance.

Despite his intentions, Dean's hips bucked forward, a silent plea for more as he bit down on his lip hard enough to leave a mark, muffling the heavy breathing and the whimper in his throat. Cas' head shifted, slowly so as not to draw suspicion, until his lips were by Dean's ear.

"If you move again, I will stop."

That husky, dominating voice sent fire through his veins like he had never known before, yet he instinctually stilled any movement. Without even thinking about it, he had just handed over irrefutable evidence that he wanted this desperately. Cas clearly understood that, judging by a low chuckle in his ear.

"Good. Now do try to stay quiet."

Dean nodded, ever so slightly, biting harder on his lip as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to control his body. Cas' fingers stroked over the head of his cock, down it's length, frustratingly teasing.

"You know, when I pleasured you yesterday, it was so hard.. So hard not to fuck you right there."

Dean's breath stuttered in his chest at the lustily whispered words, the kind of talk he had never imagined coming from Cas' mouth - that he never thought he would enjoy quite so much from Cas' mouth. He was inherently glad that Sam liked to watch movies loud, as he couldn't hear the sinful words from the angel, nor the barely muffled whimpers and gasps from Dean.

"When I finished sucking you off, I wanted to press you against that tree and take the very best of you, Dean... Make you mine, mark you as mine..."

" _Yes, Cas... Fuck, yes..._ " Dean surprised himself as his thoughts came out of his mouth, barely loud enough for Cas to hear.

The angel did hear it, however, judging by a soft groan and his hand tightening almost painfully on Dean's cock. That slight pain, however, sent the pleasure shooting to another level that Dean hadn't even known existed. He was trembling now, his entire body vibrating where he sat, and he didn't know how much longer he could handle this.

"Would you enjoy that, Dean? If I marked you? Made you mine?"

The words were feeding his libido now, bringing a suppressed whine of desire as he struggled to keep still, as ordered. He could feel his orgasm getting closer, tremors up and down his spine, heat coiling in his abdomen like a spring that could snap at any given moment.

"Dean, I would ask that you answer me."

The grip on his cock tightened painfully again, stroking him maddeningly slow, stretching the skin painfully as he realised he hadn't actually replied.

"Yes... Yes, Cas, yours, please," He gasped lowly, babbling in his desperation.

Dean wondered as he felt Cas' free hand move up, over his body, further up his chest - it paused as Cas made sure the others were intent on the movie - then simultaneously, the hand clamped down over his mouth, and he felt a sharp pleasure-pain against his neck. Cas bit down, hard, and sucked at the spot to form a bruise within moments.

The sensation sent Dean over the edge, and his mind went blank, white flashing behind closed eyes. He was distantly aware of loud howling from the tv, hiding the fact that he was whimpering and moaning into Cas' hand as his cock shot his release over Cas' hand and the inside of his pants.

* * *

"That was most enjoyable, Sam, thank you." Castiel commented, stretching out as the third movie drew to a close.

"I still don't understand." Jack commented, confusion on his face. "This Professor Snape, is he good or bad?"

"Nobody really figured that out." Sam laughed fondly. "The general idea seems to be, he was both."

Cas stood up, pushing the blanket to the side as Jack and Sam kept discussing the movie. He had a feeling they would be talking for awhile, and he had other ideas in mind of how to spend the rest of the night. Or morning, as it was now one am.

He 'woke' Dean, declining Sam's offer of help - Sam didn't need to know that Dean had never actually been sleeping. Dean, for his part, put on a fairly good show of being sleepy, grunting and shuffling his feet as Cas led him from the room.

They got as far as the hallway.

Dean shoved Cas against the wall bodily, pressing against him. He barely had time to register a smirk before he crashed his lips against the angel's, tongue slipping between his parted lips as he licked into Cas' mouth greedily. His hands shot to Cas' sides, slipping easily under the soft material of his own Tee, that Cas had chosen to wear.

His fingers worked their way up Cas' sides, brushing over the sensitive skin on their way up. He brushed the pads of his fingers over the angel's nipples, grinning into his mouth as he pulled a groan in response.

"What you did to me in there..." Dean breathed as he worked kisses down Cas' neck, hands roaming freely under his shirt. "Shit, Cas... Never been so turned on... Didn't know you were such a filthy bastard..."

"I dont know-ah.. what you mean.." Cas gasped as Dean kissed along a particularly sensitive spot on his collarbone.

Dean groaned in response, pressing his groin hard against Cas, finding a hard length that matched his own. The feeling of it sent curls of heat shooting up his spine and he rolled his hips, grinding their erections together with delicious pleasure.

"Don't tell me later... Not tonight... Please, Cas..."

For a terrifying moment, Cas pulled away from him. Dean froze, staring into deep blue eyes, desperately waiting for something, anything, that was not a rejection to his plea.

"Let's finish this now, Dean." Cas whispered, barely a sound.

And with that they dissolved into heated kisses, hands fumbling to strip clothes as fast as they could. Dean pulled Cas against him hard, bringing them crashing into his door. Cas laughed into his mouth as his hand fumbled for the door knob, growling when it wouldn't give-

And then it did, and they were falling, landing hard on the floor in a tangle of limbs. Dean was shocked for a moment, staring at Cas on top of him in surprise. The angel was panting hard, pupils blown wide and eyes darkened with desire.

"Cas.." Dean groaned, arching his back to press up into his body. "Cas... Need you..."

In one dizzying moment, they were suddenly on Dean's bed, the door closing with a loud slam. Dean took a deep, steadying breath, still yet unaccustomed to the travel. By the time he recovered, Cas had undone his pants and was tugging them down to his thighs.

Dean grabbed at the angel's hands, stopping him. The angel glanced at him with shielded, concerned eyes.

"Cas, I want... more." He stuttered, unsure how to express his desire without humiliation.

"Tell me." Cas breathed, moving in to press kisses down his neck, over the purplish bruise he had left earlier. "Tell me what you need, Dean."

"I want you... need you... inside me..."

"Are you certain?" Cas pulled back, searching his eyes, face betraying clear shock. "That is... very different, from what you are used to. We don't have to go there, Dean."

Dean huffed out a breath, relishing that this wasn't going to be total lust driven, maddened sex. There was a conversation to be had, first. He forced himself to calm down, head dropping back on the pillow, his fingers tracing idle patterns over the angel's back.

"Man, after that first time... Back at the pool tables... You know, I never thought I could be into a dude like that." He averted his eyes, a flush spreading across his cheeks as he remembered. "Then I realised, this has been going on longer than I remember. Those things, feelings, that I wanted to experience differently... You were a big part of that. But admitting it to myself, man... There was always a reason, an excuse."

Cas didn't reply, leaning down to brush kisses over his lips, cheeks, neck - anywhere he could reach, encouraging him silently to continue.

"Then at the rink... I put it all down to adrenaline. But then you said later, and it drove me insane. And it made me think. Why did it drive me so insane? One timers aren't new for me, never bothered me. So why couldn't I stop thinking about it, and you, and later?"

Cas hummed against his skin, sending a shiver through him as he breathed over that oh so sensitive spot on his neck.

"It was confusing. It's always been confusing. There's something between us, but I- I dig chicks, y'know? But then yesterday, god... I thought about it, all last night, I couldn't sleep. And I realised, it doesn't matter. It never did. It's not about chicks or dudes, it's you. It's always been you."

He heard Cas' sharp intake of breath at that, and noticed the way he stilled. He moved his hands around, cupping Cas' face and lifting his head to look into his eyes.

"It's always been you." He repeated.

The sound that left Cas' mouth could best be described as a cry, somewhere between grief and relief, as their lips crashed together in a desperate, passionate kiss.

And despite how much he claimed to hate chick flick moments, something in Dean's soul soared then, set free by his proclamation. Their kisses became deeper, more loving and less desperate, despite the rest of their clothes slowly shedding until they were both pressing together, stark naked.

"Please, Cas.. Can't wait anymore..."

Dean was begging, pressing up to gain contact with every inch of Cas' skin he could possibly manage.

"Lube?" Cas growled into his ear, his entire body rolling against Dean.

Dean gasped, realising that was as good as a 'yes'. He reached out, fumbling on his bedside table between kisses until he managed to grab hold of the small bottle of lubricant. Cas grinned against his lips when he pressed the bottle into his hands.

"You keep it within easy reach?" Cas asked, opening the bottle and spreading the slick over his fingers.

"Just.. Last night, needed it..." Dean breathed, his legs opening as Cas slid down his body.

"Mmm... You must tell me later, what you have been getting up to..."

Dean's breath hitched as he felt a slick fingertip circling his hole, pressing gently around the rim. He was so worked up already, his cock dripping precum, and his hips rolled as he tried to push down onto Cas.

"Just... Playing... Getting ready... wanted you..." Dean murmured disjointedly, his mind refusing to make proper sentences.

Cas groaned at his words, grinding his erection down onto the mattress as he gently pressed a single finger into the hunter. Dean whimpered slightly at the uncomfortable intrusion, wriggling around slightly to get accustomed to the feeling. He knew the fingers would feel better soon, however part of him was worried about what was to come.

Cas stroked gentle fingers over his chest, trying to calm him as he added a second finger. It went in easily enough, with minimal resistance, thanks to Dean's efforts over the past week.

He was whining now, hips moving without control, trying to direct those fingers to that- and oh, shit, he found it, that perfect little bundle of nerves that forced his back to arch and sent a filthy moan out of his throat.

"My, you are a responsive lover." Cas chuckled, pulling his fingers back a little, then thrusting back into that little nub.

"CAS!" Dean cried out, his feet finding purchase on the bed, giving him the stability to arch his entire body off the bed.

"Holy shit..." Cas blasphemed, eyes widening at the clear expression of pleasure on Dean's face.

It was too soon, but Cas introduced a third finger anyway - and the whimpers and moans falling from Dean's lips proved it was the right decision as he stretched Dean open for him, drinking in the sight of the hunters total abandon.

"Cas, Cas, please, need you now... Please, Cas..." Dean begged in a shattered voice, hips trying to push back against Cas' fingers in desperation.

"Okay, okay... Let me..." Cas trailed off, his voice shaking.

Dean whimpered as Cas pulled his fingers back, but then he heard a foil ripping, and watched as Cas rolled a condom over his cock. As the angel moved over him, he noticed just how large and heavy Cas was hanging, and felt a flicker of uncertainty.

Cas caught his lips, driving all thought from his mind as his lips sent him dizzy with desire. Deft hands moved down his legs, gripping behind his knees to lift his legs up, move them until he was wrapped around his angel's chest. Then he felt the head of Cas' cock pressing against his hole, and he tensed momentarily.

"I'll go gentle." Cas promised, voice trembling again with the effort of holding back.

"Please..." Dean answered, though he barely knew what he was begging for anymore.

Then Cas was pressing inside him, and all thought left his mind in a haze of pleasure. The burn was disconcerting, however it somehow added to the pleasure as Cas moved gently, incrementally, until he finally, finally bottomed out, drawing a throaty groan from both of them.

"Are you.. okay..?" Cas gasped, and the sound hit the desire coiling deep in Dean's gut.

"I'm fine, fine, just move Cas, please.. I can't take this much longer..." Dean gasped out, scrabbling over Cas' back, leaving red marks from his nails every where he tried to grab hold.

"Does it hurt?" Cas pulled his head back, meeting Dean's lust filled gaze with his worried one.

"Nonono!" Dean cried out, trying to move against Cas, pinned by the angel's weight. "Need you, you have to... move, please, damn Cas just fuck me please!"

He fairly yelled the last part, desperately wiggling against Cas, and it had the desired effect. Cas' breath hitched at his words, and he groaned deeply, pulling out a little before thrusting back in, hitting that bundle of nerves, repeating the action gently... But it wasn't enough.

"Cas please, please..."

And finally Cas got the message, thrusting into him hard, driving him into the mattress. Dean cried out, barely making full words now, his mind on a constant loop of pleaseyesharder.

Cas' lips crashed back down onto his as they moved into a constant rhythm, a deep, hard fucking like dean had never known, and he couldn't help wondering why he had waited so long when it felt this damn good. Every thrust sent fire through his body, arcing his back, bringing him right to that edge and holding him there, reducing him to a wailing mess.

"Dean I won't... I can't.. Last long, at this pace..." Cas was breathing hard, his cock swelling to an impossible hardness inside Dean as his climax drew nearer.

"Yes, Cas, yes, want you to come, come inside me, please," Dean begged, finding purchase for his hands on Cas' upper arms, gripping hard as he rode that edge, desperate for that one tiny thing that would tip him over the edge...

"Deeean..." Cas groaned, dropping his head down onto Dean's shoulder, hips pumping erratically at the heat pooled in his gut...

"Bite me..." Dean gasped, fingers digging in hard. "Bite me again, Cas, please.."

Cas released a feral, animalistic groan, fucking hard into his hunter as he bit down on the opposite side of Dean's neck, harder than before. He groaned around the skin again as he felt Dean tense underneath him, his entire body gripping Cas' cock tightly.

As the pain washed over his senses, orgasm reached up to claim him, a scream falling from his lips as his cock spurted hot streams of come over both Cas' chest and his own. He felt Cas pulse inside of him and cry out his name, bringing with it a feeling unlike anything he'd ever experienced, prolonging his orgasm.

Cas collapsed onto him heavily, and they lay there for some time, hands gently stroking each other into calmness as they caught their breath. Even when Cas slipped out of him and disposed of the condom, even when he wiped Dean clean, they came back together, facing each other on their sides as they shared breath.

"I think I love you." Dean whispered into the quiet sometime later.

Shock registered in Cas' eyes first, before a look so tender and painful, Dean had to choke back tears. Cas raised a hand to rest on his cheek, gently brushing away the wetness.

"I know I love you. It's always been you." Cas repeated his words from earlier, leaning forward to capture his lips in a tender kiss.

Dean melted into the kiss with a smile, then reached one arm around to pull his lover closer.

Humming in the post orgasm bliss, they wrapped around each other, falling into an easy sleep together. The morning would bring something new, but for now this was all that mattered.


End file.
